Lately I have been in a sort of funk.
Several times over the past few days I have faithfully pulled up my blogger tab, but the words that I labored to type were all wrong. Every single time I pushed delete delete delete and then walked away- empty of words.
Maybe this has something to do with a big weekend. Turning 30, getting lots of breaks from the kids and my regular routine, and perhaps just struggling to adjust back to normal life.
Maybe it has something to do with several things that are weighing heavy on my mind that I can't talk about. And this is more than one thing. Let's say there's Thing A, Thing B, and Thing C- all of them I cannot share on this blog or I am not ready to share them. But these three things are taking up the majority of my thoughts. And I am such a one track (slightly obsessive) person, that it is hard for me to push these heavy thoughts aside and sit down to rock a blog post on a completely different subject.
Since writing is my outlet- since this blog is such a big part of my process to make it through motherhood- my mind has felt wildly tangled up with words that I can't process.
This afternoon as I sat on a rug with a large empty orange bowl, I stared out at a sea of crushed popcorn covering every available surface in the living room. I had given Addison the whole bowl because normally she does so well with it. But this time Carter yanked it from her and dumped it. Everywhere. Eli then took the opportunity to crush it into even tinier pieces with his walker and his super fast walk over and over in the space where the popcorn had taken over.
Do you know how many kernels of popcorn come in a regular popcorn bag? Twenty Bazillion. That's right. I counted.
And as I sat there, I considered just lying down on top of the kernels and waiting for an earthquake or something to take us all. But instead, I instructed the children- "you make a mess- you clean it up!"
So I sat there and helped for the forty hours that it took them to pick up the popcorn piece by piece and put it in the bowl. I set Carter up with the vacuum and told him he needed to finish the job. (he did)
I then tried to turn the afternoon around. Fort time! I set up a fort involving a large comforter, two Dining Room chairs, the recliner, and the couch. It was awesome. For two minutes. Then Carter jumped on top of the comforter and collapsed it all just as Addison fell from the Dining Room chair onto her head.
While I made dinner, they emptied every storage bin ever created. I wanted to stop them but they were playing so nicely together and they were only dumping toys, so I let them go.
By the time dinner was ready, they had used up all their niceness.
"ADDISON TOOK MY FORK!"
sob sob SCREAM "AND MY TRACTOR!"
"Addison, please give Carter back his fork."
Move to physically help her give his fork back.
"AND MY TRACTOR!!!!!"
"You can share your tractor. You have twenty cars surrounding your plate."
"NO! NO, SHARE! MY TRACTOR!"
and so on and so forth.
By the time they were finally in their rooms for bed, I looked around the house and wanted to crawl into a little ball and stay there for at least ten years.
Toys covered all the floors, bits of popcorn still clung to random surfaces like a surprise just waiting to happen, dinner was half eaten, the kitchen was a disaster from quick dinner preparations, my soul felt like two toddlers just had a battering contest with it- and won.
But there was this baby shower I was supposed to go to. I was supposed to share a few comments on going from 1 child to 2. My mind was a blank, and I didn't want to talk to PEOPLE or have to pretend to be HAPPY. But I made a commitment so I was going.
So I put on Real Clothes, grabbed my car keys, and left as soon as husband walked in the door (with a slightly shell shocked expression on his face as he surveyed what used to be a functioning house just 12 hours earlier)
I took my "funk" with me.
It's amazing that I forget this tiny little thing. This happens to me over and over again and I act surprised every time.
I went to the baby shower. I laughed. I talked. I listened to other people talk. I set aside my funk and rejoined Civilization for a few hours.
What is the thing that I often forget? As a stay at home mom with sometimes little contact with the outside world- it is IMPORTANT that I get OUT of the house when I get in this sort of funk. It is imperative that I set aside my petty problems and just GO. Breath in air that hasn't been snorted out through tiny nostrils. See sights that I don't have to clean. Talk to people who I don't have to parent.
I panicked for a minute before my comments about transitioning to 2 kids when I realized that the other commenters had printed outlines and such, but I led with the horror that was the popcorn story and somehow danced my way through it. (I ended up not using my original plan of "DON'T DO IT!" or "CUT IT OFF!" that I devised during popcorn time.
And when I arrived home, Prince Charming had picked up all the toys, cleared away dinner, and mostly cleaned the kitchen. (Aaron was there too. hehe just kidding.)
All that to say- I am feeling much better. Refreshed. Ready for another day.
Someone once said to me that God gives us the breaks that we really need. This is so true. Tonight I desperately needed this break even though I was convinced a nice little pity party would do the trick nicely. I am thankful. And hoping for no popcorn wars tomorrow.